Unbent
I asked for a bit of space,
a tiny but of understanding
and you handed me a diagnosis.
"Abnormal" you said.
Your favourite label for a woman
who will not bend her life to suit you.
Then came the quiet deflection, right on cue.
That condescending little laugh,
that passive way you slide backward
the second a conversation calls for actual effort.
It is a neat trick.
I ask to be met halfway.
You turn my basic needs into a defect.
You shrink back, play the victim
and try to pretend your control is just compromise.
Go ahead, label me stubborn. Label me unbending.
Roll your eyes, go play your games with someone else.
I was not asking for the moon.
I just wanted a man who could show up
without trying to pull all the strings.
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